


The Third Time

by tambrathegreat



Series: Attack of the Plot Bunnies Prompt Answers [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 20:24:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3663792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tambrathegreat/pseuds/tambrathegreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl know that bad things always come in three.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Third Time

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a challenge issued on the Fanfiction Writer's Group on Facebook. The challenge was to write a 300- 500 word drabble on the theme "Bad things come in threes." I missed that mark by some three hundred words, but I do so love Daryl and Michonne. This is Prompt 1.

Daryl wasn't superstitious. Religion had never really took with him, he didn't believe in Lady Luck, and he didn't carry a damned rabbits foot or four leafed clover or whatever the hell dumb ass people carried to let them think things would turn out.    

In his experience things either turned to shit or worse. 

His pragmatism had been hard-won. Both the Old Man and Merle were pretty damned stupid about how god or the devil would treat them when they died.  Both of them listened to those TV preachers, the ones asked for money and offered rinky- dink bull shit and salvation in return.  Daryl  hadtried to believe that shit at one time too, b ut he just couldn't take it serious.

You lived or you died, or now you became one of those walking meat sacks. There wasn't much else to believe about it all.

He did, however, know that if things went bad, it always came in threes.

Today was one of those days that proved that very thing.

He was out on a run with Glen when they ran into a herd.  During the dust up, Daryl's crossbow got grabbed by one of the Walkers.  He pulled it away, taking about half the dead girl's hand with it, and the string on it broke. 

No problem. He still had his knife.

They fought their way through only to find that the tire on the damned car they'd drove was flat.   Glen hissed through clenched teeth, "Fuck..."

Again, it was fixable.  Daryl was a dab hand at changing tires.  He'd had to be with the rust bucket's the old man drove.  

They made it back to the old farm the group was calling their own and everything seemed fine until  Michonne came over.  She'd said those four dreaded words that struck fear in the heart of every man. "We need to talk."

Okay, maybe Daryl hadn't been real communicative about the night that they'd spent out in that barn, and maybe he should have said something more after they'd fucked than, "I  ain't boyfriend material." 

He ducked his head.  He wasn't good at this shit.   After they'd been together that night, he'd tried to think of things that he could say to make up for  what  he'd said. She'd been avoiding him for the last couple of months, and he'd never come up with a way he could tell her that he wanted to be with her if she'd have him , but he just couldn't.  He wasn't good with words or women.

Hell,  Merle'd come  real  close to the mark when he called him a virgin.  "Go ahead and say your piece."

Michonne licked her lips in that way that always pulled at Daryl's guts and twisted him in knots lower down.  "I was thinking maybe we could find some place a little less public."

Daryl grabbed  the meat he was eating  and followed her outside to the porch.  He took a bite of the roasted squirrel that Carl brought home and said around the greasy mess of it, " Whut?"

She turned her back to him giving him the view of her he appreciated most.  "I'm late.   I'm always on time, but I haven't had a period since that night. "

His legs turned to jelly and his vision blanked for a second.  After he swallowed the bite of squirrel that had become dry as sand in his mouth he said, "Huh..."

She turned back around, her eyes suspiciously bright. "I don't expect anything from you. I just thought you needed to know."

She moved in her graceful, long-limbed way to the screen door.  As she passed him he snaked his hand out and grabbe d  her hand.  " Hey there... I t's just...  well , bad things are supposed to come in three..."

"Thanks, Dixon . "   Michonne  jerked her hand out of his grasp.  "It's good to know how you view me. .. and this... thing . "

" Naw ." He scratched his chin, an unconscious imitation of Merle and the old man.  "I mean, I'm just surprised.  This  ain't bad news, not really.  I was  expectin ' you to tell me that you wanted me to..."

"What?"  Michonne half turned to him, her mouth pulled into a the angry line it had been in when they first came across each other .  "What did you expect from me?"

"I  dunno ." He rubbed his hand down his jeans, "I guess I thought you were  gonna tell me you wanted me to leave you alone and quit looking at you all the time."

"It figures."  She gave a huff of dry laughter.  She held out her hand to him. "Come on.  We need to figure this thing out, whatever it is between us."

He took her hand.  It was as clammy as his.  "I guess you're as scared as me."

"Yeah."

She led him out to the van that had brought them from Richmond to here and slid open the door.  She gave him that same little eye brow tilted look that had started all this, and he knew he was lost for better or worse.  He wanted her bad, but he'd take her anyway she came .

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Please take the time to let me know what you think.


End file.
